


Purple heartstrings

by BehindBrokenWindows



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Family Fluff, I don't know what else to tell you, M/M, kallus gets drunk, the force is Mysterious, there are a lot of words in here, you dont have to take my word for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27454297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BehindBrokenWindows/pseuds/BehindBrokenWindows
Summary: He hadn’t seen his family in a year and a half, it was now or never. And despite the urgency, despite the ominous thought, it didn’t feel like looming darkness or death in the near future, it simply felt like a transition from one stage in his life to another.*Kallus is convinced he's started seeing things, but then it occurs and reoccurs every time he's chasing the Lothal rebels. Purple ribbons in the air that make him feel at home, that make him feel loved, that make him ache whenever he doesn’t follow them. So one day he does.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 37
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, guys, I just got an idea and wrote out this whole fic in about ten hours. Guys. I dont know what happened and I have no idea if anything makes sense, but here it is... whatever it is.
> 
> I blame Santa Barbara by Smith and Thell.

It hung in the air like a ribbon so fine he could barely see it. A purple, ever-stretching ribbon like someone had left it in a dream, a half-forgotten trail, an afterthought. Kallus looked at it and a feeling bloomed in his chest, like a half-remembered memory of a holiday at home. Like his childhood in a blink. He raised his hand to touch it, but his fingers simply went through as if nothing was there at all. He followed it with his eyes, saw it disappear in the distance, over the hills of Lothal.

“Sir?” He startled, withdrew his hand as if burned and returned to himself, to the moment.

“The rebels,” he muttered under his breath and turned to the lieutenant. “What do you have for me, trooper?”

“We just missed them, sir. If we give chase –”

“No.” No, it was too late. The rebels knew this place much better than he or his troops did. They would have no chance of catching them. Kallus turned to look at the trail, the colour, but it was gone, as if it had simply faded to the blue of Lothal’s sky. It had been so familiar, like an eased ache in his chest.

He shook himself out of the reverie. This was not the time or place for homesickness or acknowledging the ever-present presence of loneliness. Whatever it was, he must’ve imagined it and imagination wouldn’t serve him now. He had missed his opportunity to catch the rebels – _this time_. He would get others, he knew that, and sooner or later he would succeed in catching them. He knew it with certainty, though he was not sure exactly how.

The echo of the feeling remained with him through the search they did of the scene where the rebels had stolen their shipment. It remained on the way to the transport and back to the cruiser. It accompanied him in the shower and sat by his side as he did paperwork.

Kallus leaned back in his seat by his desk, feeling all his forty years as he rubbed his temples. Images of his mother resurfaced, mirroring his actions. He was feeling more and more like her every day, and suddenly he missed her fiercely.

“Kriff this,” he whispered and dug up their private connection. He did the math for time difference, found it acceptable, and called her up. She answered less than a minute later.

“Alex?”

“Mother,” he said, smiling at the sound of her voice. “It’s been a long time.”

“It has. Last I heard you were stationed in the Outer Rim. We wondered.”

“It’s not punishment, I assure you. Just a mission. How are you?”

“Well. We’re well. Your father’s back-surgery went very well, and Felix is reading for his exams.”

“He’s still living at home, then?”

“You know how hard the market is.”

“Never in your favour,” he teased.

“Why are you calling, Alex?” He sighed and rubbed his temples again.

“I was thinking of taking a holiday. Coming home, staying for a week or so, unless you have other plans.” He _hadn’t_ been thinking about it at all, the words simply left his mouth without permission.

“No plans, Alex. That would be wonderful. When should we expect you?”

“I don’t know, I need to clear it with my superiors.”

“And what about this mission?”

“I have no doubt that it will be here when I return.”

Three days later he was in hyperspace on a smaller ship, doing paperwork in a smaller cabin and wondering what had come over him. He was never this impulsive, he would never leave in the middle of a mission, but something had been urging him. It was now or never. He hadn’t seen them in a year and a half, it was _now or never_. And despite the urgency, despite the ominous thought, it didn’t _feel_ like looming darkness or death in the near future, it simply felt like a transition from one stage in his life to another.

They reached Coruscant when their side of the planet was in its night cycle. It was beautiful, the patters of the endless city below art in and of itself. He was standing on the bridge when they dropped out of hyperspace, like he always did. The novelty of seeing a new – or an old – planet from space had faded a long time ago, but the awe at such a sight never would.

The ship dropped him off at ISB head-quarters on its way, and Kallus decided to spend the night there instead of making the journey home right away, it would let him refresh himself and he could leave his gear in his small room. That room, which was the only other permanent home he’d had, and all it contained of personal belonging were his civvies. He’d left the rest of it with his parents, thinking that if he ever decided to settle with someone, he would get it.

He was almost too excited in the morning and had to force himself to the mess for a bite to eat before he slung his bag over his head and went out to find the right bus. He spent the ride trying to hide his continually widening smile as the areas they passed became more recognisable, as they passed his old school and a friend’s apartment building.

He jumped from the bus and almost ran the last kilometre to his family’s apartment. It was ridiculous, but he felt like a child again when his old key-card still worked and let him in. He was as silent as he could in the hallway downstairs, closing the door with barely a sound and stripping his shoes off so he might be able to sneak up on someone.

They were playing music in the living room, he could tell already. Perhaps they were making lunch? Felix was probably reading for his exams, but his parents had always enjoyed cooking together. It was one of the few hobbies they had in common.

The music was indeed coming from the living room, but it was deserted, in all its horrifying messiness.

There was a pause in the music, and he heard his father rumble something, definitely from the kitchen. He stood still until the music started again, feeling a bit ridiculous, then began tiptoeing his way toward the voices.

His father was leaning on the counter, reading from the cookbook as his mother stirred the food. They both had their backs toward him, but his father was closest so Kallus strode the last three steps and threw his arms around his father’s chest, making the poor man yelp in a very undignified way. Kallus couldn’t help but laugh out loud, lifting his father off his feet for a second, careful not to hurt him.

“Alex! Stars, boy, my heart almost skipped out of my chest, you bullheaded -!” His father twisted in his strong grip as he talked then reached up and grabbed his face, kissing him, embracing him, laughing with a happiness that reverberated in Kallus’s chest.

“Hello, dad,” he chuckled. Before he knew it, his mother descended upon them as well, kissing him and embracing the two of them together. Kallus sighed and let them take his weight for a moment as he closed his eyes.

“It’s been too long,” his mother scolded and stroked his hair.

“It has! You’re almost as grey as your mother,” his father agreed.

“Hardly, she looks more like snow than steel these days. I’m just happy to see that neither of you seem to be losing your hair. It makes me feel mildly optimistic about my odds.” His mother stroked his hair again, pulling his head down a bit so she could kiss his forehead.

“Go say hi to your brother, he’s been all up in nerves since we told him you were coming. Lunch is ready in ten.”

“Fifteen,” his father murmured and winked.

He went to his own room first, casting a look around the place, lingering on his old toys, and the stuffed Krayt Dragon his father had put by his pillow. He put his bag down and went down the hall to the room with the _Keep Out!_ sign his brother had made when he was ten. He knocked on the door and waited till he heard his brother call for him to enter.

“What is it?” Felix asked, sounding a bit grumpy, until he saw who it was. “Oh! Alex, sorry, I –”

“Little brother,” Kallus muttered, and tried to sound welcoming. His brother stood, a bit uncertainly. Felix had always been a bit awkward with him, though Kallus could hardly blame him. He’d moved away when the boy was only ten, after all. He couldn’t remember all the times Kallus had made waffles for them, or turned on his favourite show, or played dead for his benefit. “Come here,” he smiled, and reached out. He took his brother by the chin and kissed him before he pulled him into an embrace twice as tight as he’d given his father.

He'd become a man in the year and half since Kallus had seen him. His shoulders were almost as wide as Kallus’ own, though he hadn’t grown much taller, taking after their father in so much, unlike Kallus who was more like their mother in both stature and colouring.

“I hear your exams are coming up,” Kallus said as he released him. “What are they in?”

“Political mobilization,” Felix said, “Ancient political philosophy, and democracy.” There was a strange expression on his face, like he was half expecting Kallus to scoff at him, half hoping that he’d be proud.

“That sounds…”

“Dry?”

“Like something I wouldn’t understand. I didn’t know you were such an intellectual. No doubt you’ll talk circles around me.” Politics was dangerous, Kallus thought to himself, but he wasn’t going to tell his brother that. He could only hope that the man could take care of himself.

“Hardly,” his brother scoffed “You’ve talked to senators, you understand their mind games. I only understand the theories behind their words.” Kallus laughed.

“I was part of Mon Mothma’s guard detail for less than a standard week, brother, I hardly speak politician. Come, tell me about your ancient philosophers.”

Homesickness was simply a feeling that had eluded him for the better part of his life. He loved his family, he always had, but the moment he’d left for military service he’d gone, and he hadn’t once looked back. He’d returned home, for holidays, for the occasional break, but he had very rarely ached for his family and the place he’d grown up in. When someone asked, he said he was simply not wired that way. He remembered the first week into service, when one of his roommates had cried themselves to sleep because of homesickness. It had made him feel smug, and it hadn’t bothered him how cold he must seem to the others.

It bothered him now, embraced by the homey atmosphere of his family and everything he had felt when he saw the ribbon in the air on Lothal. His brother had been raised almost like an only child, had grown to become a young man who looked to his older brother with awe and nervousness in equal measure. Kallus did his best, that week, to rebuild that relationship. Felix wasn’t a child anymore, and this idealisation was no longer fitting. They were equals, and Kallus wanted him to know it, to feel it.

They went out drinking together one evening, and Kallus couldn’t even remember the last time he did such a thing. Most of the crowd was half his age and Felix wouldn’t stop poking fun at him, but it worked wonders on their relationship, and nothing so much as when Felix caught him pressing another man against a fresher stall with his tongue halfway down his throat. Kallus hadn’t been that drunk since he graduated, probably hadn’t felt so young since that time either, but he held firm to the fact that the other man was at least thirty, no matter what Felix seemed to believe.

His father stroked his hair in the morning, waking him gently and telling him that there was a bucket by his bed should he need it, and that he would be in his study, drawing.

Felix came in a few minutes after his father, climbing on top of him with a groan. He was heavier than he looked.

“I’m sorry if you wanted to keep it secret,” he rumbled.

“No.” Kallus wished he wouldn’t wriggle so much though; it did bad things to his stomach. “Bad way to let you know, though.”

“It was entertaining.” The brat pulled at his ear and Kallus wanted to throw up. “Do mum and dad know?”

“Of course. You forget I was a teenager before the Empire started frowning on it.”

“It’s just stupid.”

“I thought you had history lessons. These things come and go. It doesn’t matter.” If Felix disagreed, he didn’t voice his opinion and soon enough Kallus was sleeping again.

He still hadn’t got out of bed by the time his mother returned from work. It was her turn to gentle him awake, laugh at him, and prod him into the shower so he would be presentable for dinner. Kallus took the walk of shame at forty with less dignity than he had at twenty, but he managed to eat dinner without wanting to throw it back up again and withstood all the teasing his behaviour rewarded him with. It was well deserved, and he didn’t regret any part of it.

It was good to be home.


	2. Chapter 2

“No, no, no, NO!” They’d reached the location just in time to see the rebels, _those rebels_ , disappear around the corner of a building, sending a few last blaster bolts their way. “Well, what are you waiting for? AFTER THEM!” Kallus didn’t like yelling, but he was at the end of his kriffing _line_. If he had to watch these people slip from his fingers one more time...

They chased the rebels through half the damned city and Kallus swore one of the rebels’ vehicles was trailing purple smoke… although it wasn’t smoke, was it? It was that – that ribbon he’d seen. He couldn’t focus on that now, he _couldn’t_ , but there was a smell in the air, like the last supper he’d shared with his family before he’d had to go back to Lothal, back to this _kriffing_ mission.

Then that ship of theirs showed up out of nowhere and Kallus was out of time with no option but to dive for cover, hitting his shoulder in a way he knew he’d be feeling for a week. Oh, the joys of an aging body. He was getting too old for this kind of mission, but it didn’t stop him from rolling to his knees and bringing his borifle to his injured shoulder, wincing as he fired bolts of blaster into purple mist, hoping - begging - that it would disintegrate and stop make him feel so utterly, hopelessly alone in a world full of colour he couldn’t see.

Confusion and annoyance trailed him like angry, purple steam all the way back to his quarters in the dome. He had been so sure he had imagined it, that his sudden urge to visit his family was simply an unusual bout of homesickness. Now he felt the urge again, directionless this time, urging him to go, to move, to _do something_. He just didn’t know what or why or how.

He was too hurt to take his borifle to a training salle and spar with an imagined enemy, so he went running instead, grimacing past creaking joints and harsh breathing. Stars, a week at home eating his parents’ food and he couldn’t run anymore.

He powered through, though, until there was nothing in his head but _one foot in front of the other_. More than an hour later he limped to the showers, cursing himself for risking a knee-infection, cursing himself because he still needed to move, damnit.

He went to his bed instead, pulling a new com from its hiding place.

“Hello, Felix,” he said, and tried to force his voice not to shake with exertion. “I hope your exams are going well, and that your job-search is successful. My mission is increasingly frustrating.” He sighed into the recorder, resisting the urge to burrow his face in his pillow. “It seems like the galaxy itself is making sure I don’t succeed. Anyway, say hi to mum and dad from me.” He didn’t want to listen to his own pathetic rambling, so he simply hit send and threw the thing back in its place.

Every time, every single time he thought he had them they found a way to slip through his fingers, and he couldn’t even say that it was pure luck. They worked together astonishingly well, they had a unity that the stormtroopers could never replicate, not as long as the squads were broken up and rearranged on a regular basis. It truly was a failing of the empire, this underestimation of belonging in a group and what it could do for performance.

He knew there were reasons for it but he could not completely condone it, like he could not completely condone the way the Empire had denied men and women like him a place in the army.

He’d started out in the GAR, but like most others he hadn’t batted an eye when they won the war and became the Imperial Army. His boyfriend had, though, when he learned about the new regulations and Kallus had told him much the same as he’d told Felix; it didn’t matter.

 _“How can you say that?”_ He’d growled, sounding absolutely enraged. _“Do what you want,_ Kallus _, spend the rest of your life pretending to be someone you’re not. I refuse.”_

He didn’t know what had happened to the man in the end, and Kallus knew, in the back of his mind, that it was because he didn’t want to know. Because he suspected it wasn’t pretty.

The feeling brought by the purple trail settled in the back of his mind after a while, and though he felt it there, always, he didn’t let it distract him. Not until he saw it again, whatever it was, lingering around a particular building in the city. Barely five minutes later an explosion went off that almost killed one of his men. They didn’t catch heads nor tails of the terrorists, but Kallus knew who it was, he _knew_.

Everything went downhill from there. Rebel activity picked up drastically, but they were always a step ahead, trailing behind them a ribbon of purple silk that only Kallus could see. It ruined his focus every time with thoughts of his family, the warmth of the colour, filling him with the possibility of emotions such as he’d never felt before. And it was always there, wherever the rebels went it taunted him until he thought he was going mad.

It took too long for him to consider that they were doing it on purpose. Perhaps it was some Jedi trick, perhaps they were fucking with his mind. The very thought made rage boil in his chest. What else could it possibly be? They were in his head somehow, pulling on his emotions, reading his mind even? Were they digging in his head for memories of his family, trying to break him, or exploit them somehow?

It seemed implausible, but who was he to say what the Force could and could not do? Kallus ground his teeth together and swore to shield his mind against these attacks, whatever it took.

The alarm had gone off in the night. Kallus sprung from his bed and dressed in less than five minutes, rushing for the hanger bay. Just as he burst through the doors an Imperial ship took off, shooting at the stormtroopers as it disappeared. But not all the rebels had been on the ship. The Lasat and the Mandalorian were in a shoot-out with the troopers. Kallus growled and trove his borifle from his back. That Lasat owed him a fight, and the Jedi child was not here to save his ass this time. None of the Jedi were here to fuck with his mind, now was the time.

He prowled towards his prey. He’d been fast asleep only ten minutes ago, but nothing would stop him now.

“Stop hiding like cowards!” Kallus bellowed, his voice echoing in the room. The Mandalorian shot at him, but he saw it coming. The Lasat had gotten up, face scrunched in anger and it seemed like the very air between them thrummed with it.

The Lasat took up his fighting stance and bared his fangs.

“Zeb!” The Mandalorian hissed, but he ignored her. Stupid beast. Kallus had beaten him before, he would beat him again.

The troopers stopped shooting when Kallus walked into their 45, careless.

It was possibly the most natural thing he had ever done, prowling toward the Lasat, face set in grim determination, hiding the way his blood was pumping. He couldn’t look away – knew he should keep track of the Mandalorian, but she didn’t seem half as significant.

He didn’t have to think of the movements, they came to him easy as anything. He raised his weapon and charged, attacked once, twice, thrice only to fall back and block. _Stars_ the Lasat was strong. Kallus pushed back, forcing the other to retreat. The air was getting thick around them, and for a moment he couldn’t see – the Lasat’s blow struck him in the ribs. He could have blocked it, he _should have_ blocked it, but the man was surrounded by that, that _floating colour_. Kallus rolled onto his knees, gaping up at the Lasat a few paces away. He shifted, and the ribbon – the memory of his presence, or whatever it was, shifted with him. Suddenly Kallus knew why that colour seemed familiar. It was the exact shade of his fur.

Kallus barely had the presence of mind to roll away from the next blow. He stumbled to his feet and raised his borifle, blocking again, giving ground.

“No!” he growled. And he was done, he was so _done_ with this. He couldn’t focus when all he could think about was his mother’s arms and his brother’s laughter and a bloody love he’d never known, he couldn’t. Kallus roared out his anger and pressed his attack, pushing the Lasat back and back again, growling, swearing, feeling absolutely mad with it all.

He made a stumble, fell into a roll, and the Mandalorian was yelling at his opponent, finally getting his attention and urging him away. Once more the rebels had slipped between his fingers and Kallus wanted to tear someone’s head off if it would only make this aching, desperate feeling go away.

There was a message waiting for him when he returned to his bed, and he almost collapsed with relief.

“Hey, Alex. I’m done with my exams now, just got my results today. I got decent grades, so I’m going out with some mates to celebrate. We’re all well at home, mum is working as usual, and dad is drawing you. I can’t wait for you to see this one, it’s incredible. I hope your mission goes better, perhaps you can come home for a bit when you finish it. We miss you. Love, Felix.”

He put the message on repeat and fell asleep to the comforting voice of his little brother.

The last time he saw the ribbons was on the construction module above Geonosis, when he trailed them into an escape pod that led to perhaps the most crucial event in his life. Something that parted the clouds in his mind, that let him look up to the sky and slowly, slowly, start seeing what was really there. There was so much more out there than what he had known. Had his mind been so clouded all this time? Had he simply not wanted to see, until he started following that purple trail, despite the tumult it caused him?

He spent long nights curled around the meteorite, drowning in loneliness, drowning in the ache his family left behind. He’d become lost in the Imperial Army, had forgotten what it was to be human until companionship and family and possibility had hit him in the heart like a borifle to the face.

He had to leave, he had to do something. He could simply not remain in this place, a grey piece forgotten among all the other grey pieces. But he had to wait, and plan, and bide his time.

Eventually he would be caught, or found, or desert. No matter what happened, he knew the repercussions to his family. He knew – damnit, _he knew_ what happened to Lasat in imperial prisons, _he knew_ what happened to the families of traitors.

*

Felix jerked awake in the night, startled by a new message on his com. He smiled when he saw it was from Alex, but it faded from his face as he heard what he had to say.

 _“I’m in too deep, brother, I’m sorry. I need you to keep calm and level-headed. If you can’t, go to mum. Listen to me, now. I need you to buy a burner com and make contact, and I need you to prepare to leave. All of you. Pack your bags, find transport off the planet._ Do not leave yet _. I will tell you when and where to go. Bring as little as you can, leave nothing behind that can be used against any of us. Destroy everything if you have to. Do not believe what the Empire says about me. Trust me._ ”

He was shaking by the time the message ended, with confusion and fear. Was someone after him? What did he mean, too deep? Why did they have to leave? He pulled a bathrobe on and stumbled his way to his parents’ room and shook them awake. He replayed the message and had to listen to it another three times before his mother let him turn it off.

“Burn that,” she urged, nodding at the com. “Burn it right now.”

“But what if he has to –”

“Felix, _burn it_.” It didn’t take fire easily, so he mostly melted it, but he supposed it did the job. He returned to the bedroom.

“Nothing has happened, Felix. He’s still fine, and now he’s relying on us to remain inconspicuous. I don’t know what he’s gotten himself into, but it’s serious. Anyone may be watching.” There was a scrambling device set up on his mother’s bedside table. “Tomorrow I’m going to work, Carl is staying here like usual, and you’re going to look for a new part for your playing machine – whatever it’s called, and you’re going to buy a burner com, like your brother asked you to do. You’re going to do it with untraceables, do you understand?” Felix nodded. “Good. Now go to sleep.” His mother’s words were harsh and her voice was worried, but her eyes were kind, like Alex’, and she stroked his hair before she pushed him out.

Felix didn’t sleep at all the rest of the night. He suspected his parents didn’t either.

*

Kallus hesitated. Thrawn spoke of a traitor, and Kallus hesitated. Should he tell them to go? If someone were watching them, if Thrawn had someone watching his family it would give him away the moment they left. So, he hesitated. _Just one more day_ , he thought, and images of his brother with a burn instead of an eye haunted his sleep.

He framed Lieutenant Lyste and he still hesitated. Then he heard about the attack on Lothal, and he couldn’t justify it anymore. One way or another, he would stop being an imperial during that battle. By the time it happened his family needed to be safe.

He sent the message, burned and crushed the com, then went to send his second secret message. There was only one thing that kept him going through the following interrogation. _Thank the Force, I saved my family_. He’d saved his family, he thought, and he saw Felix’ red hair. _I saved my family_ , he thought, and imagined his parents embracing. _I failed them_ , he thought, as blue hair crossed his mind’s eye, as purple fur bristled and lekku twitched. _I failed them_ , he thought in colours and closed his eyes. He couldn’t watch. He wished he couldn’t see, that he was blind to the pain and the horror like he’d been for so long. He’d failed that family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two up and done - please tell me what you think of my drunken rambling, I greatly appreciate it (even if it's (constructive!) criticism).
> 
> Also I wanted to share the fact that I just made my worst decision in 2020 by letting my roomie cut my hair, BUT I STAND BY IT. I guess I just look even more gay now than I usually do!
> 
> Happy Quarantine, people, I'm slowly going mad. See you in a day or two *waves frantically*


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey, you alright?” Kallus dragged his mind from the ocean of relief he’d been drowning in. The ribbons were gone, but Zeb’s fur hadn’t faded.

“I’m a bit worse for wear,” he admitted. The Lasat looked huge, standing above him like he did now, but Kallus did not feel threatened anymore. He felt almost welcomed. Almost at home.

“Come on, let’s get ya checked out, alright? I got a place for you to rest, you look like you’ve been through too much in the last few days.”

“The last few years,” Kallus grumbled, wincing as Zeb helped him up. The Lasat chuckled and Kallus swore he could smell family dinner in the air around them. Zeb pulled his arm over his shoulders and helped him limp to a bunk where they waited together for someone to patch him up.

Soon after Captain Syndulla arrived with a stern expression and a med-kit.

“You got real lucky out there,” she said.

“Not lucky, Captain, privileged.” She didn’t seem to know what to say to that, but Kallus didn’t mind. They couldn’t possibly comprehend the gesture they had shown him by saving his life. He was in their debt now, and he would have to do everything he could to repay them.

She did what she could for him, but the moment they reached base he was escorted under heavy guard to the medbay, then cuffed naked to a bed and sedated against his will. Truly, he thought before the blackness took him, he was not that badly off.

Zeb was there when he woke up, sleeping in a chair with his arms crossed over his chest and a comfortable-looking blanket over his shoulders. Kallus would not be surprised if Syndulla had put it there while he slept. 

He looked at Garazeb for a little while, now that he had the time, now that he was not watched by anyone. He gave off the impression of a guard dog, mouth in a deep frown and large arms crossed over his chest even in sleep. Kallus chuckled, and called Zeb’s name. He was quick to wake.

“Hey,” Zeb grumbled, voice rough from sleep. “Wondered how long they’d put you under for. How’s your… everything? The doc said your leg was in a pretty bad shape when you came in.” Kallus huffed and tried to move his leg a bit for an assessment.

“It feels alright. What worries me is that Thrawn knew exactly where to kick. It’s where I was injured on -”

“On Bahryn. Yeah, I thought so.” Zeb sighed and pulled at the blanket around his shoulders “Command wanted to throw you in a cell, interrogate you.”

“I understand the urge. Why haven’t they?”

“Hera’s been fighting them every step of the way, saying how you’ve been helping us out, but there’s a lot of holes in her story.” Zeb’s voice was almost accusatory, and the look he was giving Kallus was grim and distrustful. Kallus felt cold. “Why’re you here, Kallus?” So, the _Spectres_ would fight for his rights, but it was clear that they weren’t trusting him yet either. Kallus could hardly blame them.

“Because a man on a moon showed me kindness.” It was only part of the story, but how could he explain what had happened? How could he explain the fact that he’d suddenly sprouted feelings in his forties? But that wasn’t quite it either, was it? He remembered the teenager he used to be, how kind he’d been, how much he’d hugged his parents and cuddled the baby. Bit by bit that boy had been chipped away, only to fight his way back to the surface in the company of his little brother, and emerge bit by bit every time he saw purple strings slowly dancing in the air. How do you explain something like that? How do you explain the process of reclaiming your humanity and all the work that it entails, all the doubt and the sleepless nights? How do you explain hating the person you’ve become, but doubting everything you’re going towards? Kallus didn’t know.

“You expect me to believe that?”

“You don’t think you could? You underestimate yourself, Garazeb. But it was not just that. I started asking questions, I let myself ask the questions I’d been wondering about for quite a while. You gave me the courage, Garazeb. I did the rest.”

Rebel Command took less easily to his story and his reasons, but they let him leave his cell (they had put him in one, comfortable though it was, after he was released from the medbay) from time to time, so long as someone was there to accompany him – or potentially stun him, should it prove necessary. It wouldn’t, of course, but Kallus appreciated the wariness. And he wasn’t about to complain, not when it was the Lasat who had to follow him around. He, Kallus thought, was his best bet for finding a place here, and for getting what he’d deserted for.

“The Droid Army lost the Clone Wars, Zeb,” Kallus told him one day when they were strolling through base, “But what sprang up from the ashes of the GAR was not far from it. I forgot what it was like to have people around me that cared for me, and that I cared for in return. You showed me that. Every time I chased you, you showed me what it really meant to be part of something bigger. I was so – so jealous when they picked you up, Zeb. You have no idea how I ached to come with you. Perhaps I should have.” _But my family would not be safe_. Were they safe, though? Kallus had no way of knowing, save going to them. He knew the coordinates by heart.

“Yer here now,” Zeb said. “That’s what matters.”

He told Zeb after dinner. When they were alone outside of base.

“I was supposed to go to them after I deserted. They’re probably still there, waiting for me.” Gears seemed to be grinding in Zeb’s mind, like he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the idea that Kallus had a family he cared for. His eyes softened, though, and Kallus felt hopeful.

“We’ll get them, Kal, don’t worry.” How could he worry, when Zeb looked at him like that, called him Kal, and made him feel like he was home?

“Don’t promise me something you can’t keep, Zeb,” he begged, and he knew there was too much in his eyes, he knew his voice was too thick with things he didn’t say. Zeb sighed and looked away.

“Yeah.”

A few days later the _Ghost_ was ready to fly and Kallus had torn himself bodily away from his guards, calling Zeb’s name right before the ramp closed. He was heaving for breath when it opened again and Zeb stepped down, frowning deeply and looking like he didn’t at all want to stand there and hear what Kallus had to say. Kallus trove his hand anyway and pulled a small piece of metal from his jacket. He pressed it into Zeb’s hand and closed it around the little thing.

“Show it to them.” Zeb took a step back and the _Ghost_ took off into the sky.

Kallus hadn’t really noticed the way people looked at him when Zeb, Hera and Rex had been around to act as buffers, but the suspicion he was treated with was now tearing on his already fraying nerves. Everyone he cared for, everything he had left in the galaxy was out there in potentially hostile territory, and all he could do was wait.

Wedge Antilles had reluctantly agreed to be his keeper, though Kallus suspected it was mostly from the pleasure of not needing an excuse to draw a blaster on him. Kallus didn’t let on that if he really wanted to get away the boy could not stop him.

He was interrogated every day, more forcefully now that the _Spectres_ were away and unable to complain about the bags under his eyes. There was progress though, despite it all. And even Wedge seemed to ease up around him and started telling him about how the Rebellion differed from the Empire. The cultural differences were bigger than Kallus had initially suspected, and he was edging toward thinking that the Rebellion couldn’t even be called a military force. How could they, with the lack of a proper command chain, a single unifying culture, and no threat of violence against deserters?

But that wasn’t what kept him awake at night. He tried to keep his mind off his family, it was much safer to worry about the _Spectres_. He had grown to admire and respect them, but it would not destroy him if they were hurt. His family, however… he didn’t know what he would do if he was the cause of any harm come to his family, but he would never forgive himself for it. They had not volunteered for this, not as the _Spectres_ had. 

He’d put his family in mortal danger when he decided to betray the Empire, and he’d still done it. He’d taken their futures from them; his brother would never graduate, his father wouldn’t finish his projects, his mother would have to leave her family’s company, their entire legacy, behind. No doubt the Empire would tear it apart when they heard of the betrayal. All those people would lose their jobs because of him, might all be punished because of him. And he found that that thought bothered him.

But this was all only if his family had decided to go. What if they had figured out what he was doing? What if someone had told them that he was a traitor to the Empire and they swore him off, cast him out, disowned him? Would they still be punished? He honestly didn’t know.

So, he had at last come to the thought that terrified him the most. What if his family wasn’t there? What if they had gone, but been discovered? What if the Empire lay in wait, ready to shoot the _Ghost_ out of the sky the moment they had the opportunity? The possibilities gnawed at him and ate at his sanity a bit more every sleepless night.

“You said you wanted to help. Tell me, Agent Kallus, how can you help us?”

Kallus looked up and cleared his throat. “I am skilled in many areas. Before I took the Lothal mission I mainly gathered data and acted upon it as I thought best. ISB Agents of my reputation rarely had to report to our superiors, we were expected to figure out the best course of action on our own. Sometimes that included under-cover work, which I was most fond of. Other times it acquired outright assault, which I would always lead.

“I am useful both in the field and outside of it. I have led company-sized units into battle before, but nothing larger. I have commanded a Star Destroyer, but not in battle. My true skill has always been with people, and therefore intelligence work. There is a lot of information I am eager to give you about Imperial procedures and protocol, many codes I have that might prove useful to you. I know the placement of undercover agents, I can predict where the Empire will strike next, and I can tell what is good information and what is not. Believe me, General Draven, there are a lot of ways I can help you.”

“Leave us,” Draven said, and soon enough they were alone in the room. Draven studied him openly without saying a word. Kallus did the same to him.

Draven had a reputation on the base for being cold and cynical. For being unapproachable and sometimes rash, sometimes harsh. If Kallus were to guess, this was the man he would have most in common with in this place. He didn’t know if that would make them friends or enemies. Few people liked what they saw in the mirror, when they’d been fighting a war long enough.

“What do you expect will happen to your family if they get here?” If there was a threat in the words, Kallus couldn’t tell.

“I expect you’ll screen them, as you have done with me. Most likely put them in a cell until you decide to trust them.”

“And you are so sure I will come to trust them? Agent Kallus, from what I understand you’re not a family man.” That must have been Draven’s own assessment of his character, and Kallus could hardly fault him for it. “How well do you really know them? Well enough to believe that they will accept your betrayal of an Empire they believe in? What kind of people are they?”

 _What kind of people are they, really?_ The words haunted him for the rest of the day. Draven was right, his family hadn’t opposed the Empire when it became an Empire, but they weren’t very politically inclined, not until Felix decided to take an interest.

_“What good is a Senate when Palpatine still has as much power as he did during the war?” Felix asked during dinner._

_“If you would explain the system to me, perhaps I could tell you,” his mother had groused._

_“That’s just it, isn’t it? I don’t know if what we learn is true. I was talking with some of my fellow students, and one of them had an older sister who studied the same during the war, and apparently what we’re learning now, well… it doesn’t quite add up.”_

His rash little brother had apparently fallen in with some slightly rebellious people on Coruscant. Kallus had told him as much, had told him to be careful and not believe the lies they told him.

 _“But what if it isn’t lies, Alex? What if we’re all blind to what’s really happening?_ ”

Kallus had remembered Lasan and felt sick, but then he’d remembered Onderon and grown angry. Only the warm feeling in his chest and the smell of home kept him from seizing Felix’ arm and shaking him.

_“You don’t know these rebels like I do, Felix. Be careful with the power you give them, or they’ll turn your head. I am out there fighting terrorists who kill defenceless people, who blow up buildings filled with civilians because one Agent might be there. They’re animals, Felix, and the Galaxy will never see peace until they are dealt with. That is why your Emperor keeps his power. He knows that the war isn’t truly over. Not yet.”_

What must Felix think of him now? He wouldn’t blame him if he hit him in the face.

But what about his parents? Where was their allegiance? The questions echoed in his mind.

“What was your rank, before?” Davits asked, and this time he sounded almost conversational.

“Oh, the ISB is outside the hierarchy. So long as we could justify our actions well enough, we could do anything. If I truly had a good reason, I could have claimed command of the Chimaera from under Thrawn’s nose. Had I done so with an unsatisfactory reason he would have the opportunity to wave at me before they threw me out the airlock if he so desired. As I said, we had few limits, but if we broke them, well, the Empire was never known for forgiveness.”

“How does _Captain_ sound to you?” Kallus chuckled.

“Unearned.”

“Don’t give me that, we know the kind of resources you have, and the _Spectres_ have all vouched for your talents. They know them only too well. Here.” He held out a piece of metal with two blue circles on it. “Wear it, I want the base to see you with it. But keep in mind that it is not official until I’ve had a chat with your family, and you’re not rid of Antilles until that time.”

“Thank you, sir.” It was more than he could have hoped for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another destiny, and nothing from Kal's family, minor kalluzeb advancements... A bit of teasing is important, right? It'll all come together though, I promise.
> 
> Eugh, anyway, tell me what you think guys, it always makes my day <3


	4. Chapter 4

When the _Spectres_ finally arrived, it was the wrong ones, but Kallus was already on the landing pad and Wedge insisted that they greet them.

“Welcome to Yavin IV!” The young man said with a flourish as the _Spectres_ came down the ramp. Ms Wren promptly punched him in the gut, grinning.

“Did you miss us?”

“Ow! No!” Wedge was rubbing his belly and Kallus tried not to chuckle. The boy had been terrorising him for a week, he deserved it.

“Kallus?” Kanan’s voice was deep and calm, with an underlying searching note that accompanied what Kallus could see of his scrunched brows. “Where are the others? Hera, and Zeb? They’re not on base…”

Kallus couldn’t help it; he straightened like he would if he were talking to a superior officer. The only thing that saved his pride was that Kanan couldn’t see him. “They’re on a mission, I’m afraid. We are expecting them to return today, but we haven’t heard from them.”

“I see.”

Wedge raised his voice as the others went toward the base. “Come on, Kallus, I won’t let you off this easy.”

“I’m right behind you, Wedge. And should I decide to do something foolish, I’m sure the _Jedi_ would be able to stop me.”

“Nah, I don’t need them,” Wedge winked. “Come on, I’ll show you guys the base. There are ships here from all over the galaxy!”

“There’s something called the _illusion of control_ ,” Kallus muttered at the back of Wedge’s head, shaking his head. Despite himself he’d grown to enjoy the young man’s company, and he had no doubt that he was an excellent pilot. He was not, however, Kallus’ match in either close quarter combat or mental prowess.

“How are you? Have you been treated well?” Kanan asked when the kids had pulled ahead a bit.

“As well as could be expected. Hera has been trying to get command to trust me, and Zeb has… acted as mental support, so to speak. Not all of the Rebels are happy to see an Imperial, even if I am a traitor. I’m very grateful to them; they have done more for me than I deserve.”

“They’ve done what they felt was right, Kallus,” Kanan said, stopping him with a hand on his elbow. Kallus turned and faced him, trying to gauge his expression beyond the mask. His hand was comforting.

“And I’m grateful for it.” Kanan nodded, then his entire mood seemed to shift to something less serious.

“So, tell me about this mission they’re on!” He slapped Kallus’ back, but stopped mid step, turning sharply toward the sky. “Or perhaps we’ll let them do it themselves, here they come. Ezra! Sabine!”

The kids flanked Kallus as they came running back to stand with Kanan, and both of them bumped into his shoulder as they passed him. Ezra turned his head and grinned at him, though, and it didn’t seem completely hostile.

Kallus managed a wan smile in return, but his nerves were making themselves known again, returning tenfold now that he could see the _Ghost_ in the distance. The ship seemed unharmed, but that told him nothing about who was in it and what condition they were in. What if they hadn’t found his family, what if – Kallus almost turned away, almost closed his eyes when the _Ghost_ landed before them and the ramp began to lower.

Immediately he heard voices from the ship.

“ _Ow! Let go of me!_ ” And that – that was definitely Felix, and for a moment Kallus thought he was going to throw up with relief.

“If you’d just _hold still_!” Zeb growled.

“Alex!” His brother yelled as the top of their heads came into view. Kallus was drawn like a magnet to his voice, pushing Ezra and Sabine apart as he shouldered past them. “ _You let me go!_ ” His brother was glaring up at Zeb, whose large hand was clutching his shoulder. Then Felix finally saw him and his face broke. “Alex!” The man tore himself away from Zeb and ran toward Kallus with desperation in every move, then flung himself bodily at him when he was within reach, and Kallus barely managed to keep his feet under his weight. But he did, and he spun them around like he used to do when he was a child.

“Felix,” he muttered, almost unbelieving as his brother seized his face and kissed him, crying and laughing at the same time. All the hesitation he had harboured at their first reunion was gone, he was clutching Kallus now like a lifeline, and Kallus felt he could finally breathe.

There were murmurs in the background, Ezra was making some noises that Kallus didn’t want to identify, and Hera and Sabine were having a reunion as well, but Kallus focused his attention past his brother’s shoulder, to his parents, approaching. Zeb was standing behind them with his arms crossed over his chest, bearing an expression of mixed feelings that Kallus couldn’t begin to identify.

“We thought – we though, stars Alex, we didn’t know what happened to you, of if you were still alive, or –”

“Hush now,” Kallus muttered at his brother, and stroked his hair. “I’m alright. I’m sorry that I frightened you, but I had no choice. I’m so sorry, Felix.”

“Alex, love, what happened to you out there?” his father rumbled as he took the two of them in an embrace, kissing Alex’s face and looking at him with concern.

His mother had no time for that. The look she was giving them made both Felix and his father pull away. “We agreed, remember?” she hissed when she was close enough. “We would take care of them.” He nodded. He did remember. He’d been fifteen and his mother had spent the last hour sparring with him that left them both bruised and soaked with sweat. His father had never known to take care of himself, had never learned to stand up for himself, and the baby – well, he was just a baby, he couldn’t protect himself. If was their job to do that, to make sure that they were safe.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, right before his mother hit him in the face, close fisted. Even after all these years he could tell she pulled her punch. It hurt none the less, as his head whipped to the side as much from shock as the force of the blow. She’d never hit him before, not outside of training, not like this. “I’m sorry.” His lip was throbbing, his loose hair had fallen into his face. He looked at his mother through his bangs and saw her eyes fill with tears. He’d _never_ thought he would see her cry, and somehow that was more surprising than the blow.

When she kissed his bruised lip and pulled him close, he felt his own eyes do the same. He curled into her arms, hiding his face in her neck, trying not to sob as she held him.

“I couldn’t stay,” he said, voice shaking. He felt his brother on his right side and his father on his left, closing in, touching him, comforting him. “With the things I learned… I couldn’t stay. _I’m sorry_.” But he didn’t regret it, he couldn’t. His family was skinny and worn and tired, but they were alive. They could hate him if they wanted, so long as they were alive to do it.

“Hush now, boy,” his mother murmured in his ear. “It’s alright. We’re all right, and you are, too. It’s alright.”

“A reunion, how nice,” General Draven said. Kallus hadn’t even noticed his arrival. “But I’m afraid we have work to do. Kallus –” His mother straightened in a way that would have been comical if the situation weren’t so uncertain. Draven was addressing _him_ , not his mother. “I’m sure your family would like an explanation. Come with me.”

“Wait,” Ezra whispered behind them as they went. “That’s his family? I thought that one was his boyfriend or something! Ew, he _kissed_ his _brother_?” The statement was followed by a _thump_ and a grunt, and Kallus imagined Zeb’s fist had made contact with Ezra’s gut. He smirked as much as his split lip allowed.

“Kal?” Zeb called. His voice was a bit hesitant, but Kallus told his family to follow Draven, and turned around.

“Thank you,” Kallus said, and itched to reach out and let Zeb feel the depth of his gratefulness.

“Yeah… I just, here.” Zeb looked ten kinds of awkward as he reached out and brushed his thumb over Kallus’ throbbing lip, then his cheekbone. “Some bacta, for the – eh, well.”

Kallus didn’t know what to say or do in face of the gesture. He must have been staring too long because Zeb scratched the back of his neck and pushed at Kallus’ shoulder.

“Go on, they’re waiting for you.” Kallus nodded, promising himself that he would think about this later, then followed his family into base.

“I’m a traitor to the Empire,” he confessed. Better to say it first as last, he had never been a coward. And though Felix was gaping at him, Kallus only had eyes for his mother who did not seem surprised. “For a while I have been spying for the Rebellion from inside the Imperial Army. I made my decision right before I sent you the message about the com, and since then I have risked both my life and yours every day, for a better cause. It was dangerous, but it was worth it. I knew my days were numbered when I told you to leave, and I would indeed have died, had it not been for the people who extracted you. They risked their lives to save mine, even though they owed me nothing.”

“Two aliens and an old republic clone trooper?” His mother’s tone did not make Kallus optimistic about the trip they had had with the _Spectres_.

“And two Jedi and a Mandalorian, yes.” His mother barked a laugh.

“You never cease to confuse me, boy. What happened to you this time?” Kallus scrubbed his face and leaned back in his chair. That was the question of the month, wasn’t it?

“Let me tell you about what happened on Lasan…”

Draven had spoken to Felix first, then sent him back to Kallus with orders to get something to eat.

“What did you do to him?” Kallus asked, slightly suspicious when Draven let Felix go so easily.

“I told him why I thought the Emperor was corrupt.” Felix grinned. “What? Are you not going to tell me off this time?” Kallus debated whether he should tell him to shut up or not, but when he looked down on his little brother with his big blue eyes and innocence all he could do was sigh deeply and throw his arms around his shoulders.

“One day when you are a little older,” Kallus muttered and his brother scoffed, trying to push him off though he was no match for Kallus’ strength, “I’ll tell you what the empire does to rebels, and then you’ll understand why I was so sharp with you.”

“You’re a right bastard, Alex,” Felix muttered, trying one last time to escape his grip. Kallus didn’t let him until they reached the mess hall.

The _Spectres_ were eating when they arrived, and Kallus nodded at them when they passed to get food. He hadn’t expected Zeb to wave them over when their plates were full, but it would be impolite to refuse, so he led his brother their way, feeling oddly nervous at formally introducing his little brother to these people.

“Felix, this is the _Ghost_ crew. Meet Captain Hera Syndulla, Kanan Jarrus, Garazeb Orrelios, Sabine Wren and Ezra Bridger. _Spectres_ , this is my little brother, Felix.”

“Come on,” Kanan said, “Take a seat.” Felix immediately sat down beside Sabine, facing Zeb. Kallus took the seat beside him, and held his breath, waiting for – well, anything.

“Zeb? May I call you Zeb?” Felix said, and a mysterious sense of dread overcame Kallus as the entire table silenced.

“Sure, mate. What is it?”

“I just wanted to say sorry for not believing you. On behalf of my parents as well. I’m really sorry I accused you of kidnapping my brother.”

“You _what_?” Kallus growled, but Zeb only laughed.

“Don’t think about it, I understand. I’d probably think the same in your position; he wasn’t always so keen on betraying the Empire, was he?” Zeb grinned. “Oh, by the way.” Zeb went rummaging in a pocket and came back with the little slab of metal Kallus had given him when he left. He flicked it open with a nail and looked at it. It was obvious he’d done so before, but Kallus didn’t blame him. He reached his hand out for it though. “Who drew these? They’re spot on.” He dropped it into Kallus’ hand, who looked at it too, the tiny drawn pictures of his mother on one side and Felix on the other.

“My father.” Sabine stretched over Felix and snatched it from his hand.

“You father’s an artist?” she gaped, staring at the drawings. “Damn, these are _really_ good. My dad’s an artist too.”

“Of course he is,” Kallus sighed to himself. Zeb grinned at him.

Felix was drawn into an art lesson by Sabine and Kanan and Hera only had eyes for each other. It left him and Zeb at the edge of the table, silent as they ate.

“Thank you,” Kallus muttered at last, making Zeb look up. He found himself missing the purple trails that used to surround him when he moved, but the feeling was there, similar but different to the one he felt when he knew that his family was safe. “For doing this for me, I never meant to be a burden. It can’t have been easy, my mother…”

“’s alright, Kal. You…” Zeb started, but cut himself off. Kallus had an of idea what he hadn’t said. Perhaps he wasn’t sure that it was true.

“I would have done the same for you,” he finished. Zeb looked up from his food, holding his eyes for a long time. Kallus nodded, to make sure that he understood. Zeb ducked his head when he saw, and it almost looked like a was hiding a smile when he dug back into his food.

“Hey, Alex!” Sabine said, startling him both with the use of his name and the sudden pull back to the moment. He gave Zeb a wan smile and turned towards her reluctantly.

“What?”

“They seem nice,” Felix told him that evening, when it was just the two of them in Kallus’ new room.

“Yes, I think they are.” Felix looked away, troubled expression on his face. “What is it, Felix?”

“I was just thinking… your friend, Zeb, he’s a Lasat. And he knows what… what you were part of.” Felix shook his head, hesitating. “He must really like you. I mean, he was there, he survived. I can’t imagine what it must be like for him.”

“Zeb is…” Kallus shook his head. Just saying the man’s name made him smile, made him feel home. “He is perhaps the most honourable person I’ve met in my life. He is noble and just, and I would trust him with – with anything. He saw me – he saw what I was, even when I have been blind to it all this time. He saw that there was honour in me too, and he opened my eyes to it, to the fact that there was no honour in serving the Empire. I was lost in there for so long, believing in a cause that I had only imagined, a cause that wasn’t real. He showed me the way, and I uncovered the truth of what my life had become.”

“You like him too.”

“I’ve never met someone so genuinely kind, despite everything. I didn’t think it was possible, I – yes.” What else was there to say? He felt at peace when Zeb was by him, he felt safe and welcomed in a way he never had in the Empire. He felt finally still, like there was nowhere else he needed to go.

“I see.”

By lunchtime the next day his parents had been released and his mother had carved a place for herself in financial management. It didn’t surprise Kallus in the least; he had gotten his ambition and arrogance from somewhere, after all. He did feel the need to confront her, however, when they had eaten together as a family, and his father had dragged Felix away with some excuse about being shown around.

“You’re helping out?” Kallus challenged the moment they were alone. It was hard to look his mother in the eyes like this, using intimidation tactics he’d learned from her as much as from his time in the Empire. It didn’t help that she was almost as tall as him and twice as stubborn. “I didn’t expect you to turn your back on the Empire so quickly.”

“I’m pragmatic, Alex. There is only one way to ensure that my boys will come through this alive, and that is if the Rebellion wins this war. Also,” she said, with a wry and humourless smile, “I trust you. If you think this is the right thing to do, then I don’t doubt you.” She ran a hand through her short hair and looked up at him with eyes so like his own. “I’m not as easily convinced as Felix, or as quick to accept as Carl, but damn me if I’m not going to protect my family to the last. Damn me if I will not stand by my son.”

“You’d fight if it comes down to it?”

“I never stopped training. Don’t forget that it was me who made you the fighter you are today, Alex. I haven’t changed that much.”

“Perhaps I have.” She shook her head with a grin.

“Tell me, Alex, did you ever finish your fight with the Lasat?”

“What have you done to it?!”

“I painted it!” Sabine was grinning, and for a moment Kallus couldn’t think about anything but what his superiors were going to say when they saw it. He would never get this off.

“Yes, I can see that. _Why_?”

“Look, here’s the fulcrum symbol,” she pointed at the breastplate, as if he couldn’t tell. It was painted bright blue. “This is my phoenix, because you’re a rebel now. This is Bahryn.”

“That was my idea!” Felix, the traitor, chimed in.

“But why?” Kallus asked, horrified. This was _military equipment_ and she had _painted it cheery colours_. And was that – Yes, that was definitely his and Zeb’s borifles, forming a cross, shimmering yellow and purple against each other.

“It was boring.” Kallus looked at the monstrosity, and though he didn’t disagree with her statement, she had used purple – _Zeb’s_ purple as the background colour. Could he possibly be so bold as to wear it? What would Zeb think?

Sabine put her hand on her hip and grinned, gesturing at him impatiently.

Kallus sighed and resigned himself to his fate, putting the piece of armour on over his t-shirt and muttering about the ridiculousness of it all. He draped himself in Zeb’s essence, and it felt _right_.

He emerged from the _Ghost,_ to where they had cleared a space for their match. A metal staff was waiting for him and he picked it up with a wash of memories. It felt wrong in his hands.

Zeb laughed when he saw him. “What happened to you? D’you fall into Sabine’s paints?”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Aw, come on Agent, it looks much better like that.” Kallus shook his head and readied his staff, trying not to shiver as Zeb’s eyes lingered on his torso and the colour finally registered with him. Kallus saw the small _oh_ on his lips and bit his lip, hoping that he hadn’t overstepped by wearing it. Zeb shook himself and grinned with only a little effort.

“Sure you wanna do this with an audience?” he teased. “It’s gonna be embarrassing when you lose.”

“Careful Zeb, Ezra won’t save you this time. But before we go – head is off limits, I don’t have a helmet.”

“Come on, I never wear a helmet!”

“We’re not all as hard-headed as you, Garazeb. One of the few failings of human physiology.”

“Few?!” Zeb laughed. “Look at your kitty teeth, Kal. You couldn’t break skin if ya wanted.”

“Are you two going to fight or not?!” someone finally yelled from the audience.

“Careful what you say, Zeb, or I might put it to the test!” Kallus growled before he pounced.

It was possibly one of the worst fights Kallus had ever been a part of. Zeb beat him back again and again until Kallus thought he was going to lose his mind. But it felt so wrong, to look at him across a weapon. It made his skin crawl and his mind protest every move. He couldn’t muster the will to press his advantage when he had the opportunity, and he knew Zeb noticed. Just like he noticed Zeb pulling his punches.

Their audience seemed oblivious, however, so Kallus kept going, only for Zeb to knock him right on his back.

“Shit, sorry,” he mumbled and reached down to help Kallus back up.

“Oh, come oooon Zeb! finish him!” Ezra yelled.

“Shut up,” Kallus growled back. He took Zeb’s hand and let him help him up.

“You’re off your game,” Zeb muttered, eyes boring into Kallus’.

“You, too.” Zeb only shrugged. “I don’t want to fight you,” he confessed. The look in Zeb’s eyes told him he understood.

“Come on, then, let’s give ‘em a show.” Kallus licked his lips, nodding.

“Let’s give them a show.” Kallus raised his weapon and Zeb _smiled_ at him, urging him on, daring him to do it. Kallus felt suddenly lightheaded.

It was easier, after that. It felt like a dance, after that. Like the very air was singing around them, shimmering between them, like there was music in the living room and his parent were cooking dinner in the kitchen, and they were dancing. It felt like everything Kallus had been missing, everything he had been running toward after that first time he saw the purples strings in the air and making him ache for home. It was everything he had ever needed and for a time it seemed like it was all Zeb could wish for too.

Kallus’ hair was still wet from the shower when he left the base and went out among the ships. It was dark by now and the hanger was almost deserted. For once, it was nearly silent on base, and Kallus was free to walk around as he pleased.

He felt a measure of trepidation when he neared the _Ghost_ and heard the sounds from the family within. He had no place in that, and now that he had his own family… perhaps he wouldn’t have anything to do with he _Ghost_ or its _Spectres_ at all. They didn’t need to look after him any longer. He found the thought displeasing.

The ramp was down, so he decided to just go up and blame them if they didn’t want to be disturbed. Zeb, Rex, Sabine and Ezra sat around the Dejarik table, shouting about the next move and occasionally screaming at the droid as it whirred past, came with a mean comment or zapped someone. Kanan Jarrus was sitting in a corner with a smile on his face, which had immediately turned toward Kallus when he entered the doorway, the only one to notice him as of yet.

“And no, Zeb!” Hera yelled from the other room. “You can’t just – _Oh_ , Kallus.” She came to a sudden stop in a doorway of her own, a bowl of candy in one hand and a beverage in the other.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Kallus said, smiling at them. To his surprise, no one was glowering at him.

“Where’s Felix?” Ezra asked as both he and Sabine tried to look past him to see if he was hiding his brother behind his back. “I promised to beat him in Sabacc.”

“I wasn’t sure… I’ll com him if you like.”

“Please do,” Zeb muttered, “maybe they’ll let me go.”

“Come on, Zeb, you haven’t lost _that much_!” Ezra said, in a voice that clearly indicated that he had.

“Yer _cheating_.”

“Why aren’t _you_?!”

Their banter began all over again, and soon Hera was just shaking her head at him before she joined Kanan in the corner.

Kallus enjoyed the show, refusing offers to join, until his brother arrived, and Zeb got up with a heavy sigh.

“Come on then, kid, your time to get your ass beat. Karabast, I need some air. You all are insufferable.” Zeb shouldered himself past Kallus in the doorway on his way out, grabbing his elbow for a moment in a silent offer to join him in a gesture much smoother than Kallus would’ve thought him capable of.

Trying not to seem conspicuous he followed Zeb down into the hold and out the ramp, round the ship, walking shoulder to shoulder with him to the edge of the jungle.

The silence stretched and lingered between them, only broken by the sounds of the forest and the distant hum of the base. Even this late the air was comfortably warm and blessedly less humid than during the day. Kallus took comfort in Zeb’s presence beside him as he stared into the forest. He could smell him, could feel his soft fur brush against his arm from time to time as their chests expanded towards each other at the same time.

“You know,” Kallus hummed at last, not looking at the Lasat beside him, “I’m actually quite afraid of the dark.”

Apparently that wasn’t at all what Zeb had expected because he snorted, shaking his head in exasperation. “And here I was thinkin you’d say something philosophical or other. Fraid of the dark, eh? Need someone to keep you safe?” Kallus elbowed him in the side at the leering tone of his voice.

“I grew up on Coruscant and spent most of my life in space. I’ve never been alone in nature, Zeb. Never. The very thought of entering that jungle right now makes my imagination go haywire. Like the darkness is stretching thin and evil fingers out to catch me, lead me astray into all kinds of dangers.”

“That’s possibly the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.” Offended, Kallus elbowed his side again. “I mean it. D’you ever see the forests on Lasan, Kal? They were magnificent. I spent half my life in those forests.” Zeb turned his head to look at him, considering. “Come on.” Kallus relaxed under Zeb’s hand on his shoulder as he steered him toward the forest. Where the hint of fear had been before, was now only warmth and trust, and Kallus didn’t know what to do with it all. Sooner or later it would be too much to contain, and what would happen then?

“Zeb, I can’t see anything! I’ll trip and hit my head, or –”

“’s okay, I can. Just trust me.” How could he say no to that? Zeb led them far enough away that the lights from base disappeared behind them, then guided them to sit on a nice spot on the ground, backs comfortable against a fallen tree.

Kallus leaned his shoulder against Zeb’s and sighed. “Every time I doubted myself I would think of you. Every time I was unsure what to do, or wondering if what I was doing was right, I would think ‘ _what would Garazeb do?_ ’. Would you call me silly if I said you were my moral compass?”

“Yeah,” Zeb admitted, though he didn’t sound mocking or angry. “I’m not perfect, Kal, you know that.”

“I know. But if I were to trust either you or myself to make the right decision, it would be you.”

“Yer underestimating yourself, Kal. It’s like you said the other day, _you_ did all the hard work. I just gave you a nudge. _You_ decided to do some research and change yer mind. I’d trust you to make the right call, Kal. Every time.”

“I’m not sure that trust is warranted,” Kallus muttered.

“Yer world’s been turned upside down, Kal. No one’s expecting you to jump back from that right away. Change is a process, it takes time. Lucky for you you’ve got all the time in the galaxy, right?” He could hear Zeb’s grin in his voice.

“Right,” Kallus huffed. “Right up until the Empire finds this base and blows us all to bits. Kriff, what have I brought my family into?”

Zeb’s arm was heavy and comforting around his shoulders, and Kallus couldn’t help but lean into the touch.

“We’ll be fine, Kal, just you see. I even heard the Empire’s best ISB agent deserted a while ago, must mean something, right?”

“Of course. Who in their right mind would desert in favour of the losing side?”

Zeb didn’t remove his arm, so Kallus scooted closer after a while to make himself more comfortable, biting down on feelings he couldn’t put words to.

No one seemed to notice when they returned together to the _Ghost_ , which made Kallus suspicious, but he and Felix spent half the night there, playing and drinking and having fun. Kallus could almost make himself believe that he belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are nearing the end, my friends! The boys just need a little bit of time to accept this thing going on between them, and a little bit of belonging doesn't hurt, am I right?
> 
> Anyway - thank you so much for reading! Leave kudos and comments to give a writer life <3


	5. Chapter 5

He knew the time of calm would have to pass, that there was a war going on that leadership were still trying to deny and that meant that there was no time for breaks. He’d been lucky though; the time spent on base before his family came had let him get his strength back, despite the rough questioning. When his family arrived, he could stop worrying about them and go back to worrying about doing his job now that he was finally allowed to do it. He was perfectly balanced again – almost. There was the little matter of his family’s place in the rebellion which he was sure would resolve itself at some point, but then there was the larger matter that he didn’t want to acknowledge, even though he knew well what it was already.

Kallus had never been one to lie to himself – wilful ignorance, yes, about the morality of the Empire, but lying when he knew the truth? He wasn’t that cowardly, and he had this innate belief that whatever life threw at him he would be able to handle. Indecent and illegal emotions about an alien included.

He tried to think about it technically at first. Were humans and Lasat even compatible? Culturally, it seemed so. _Physically_ … well, he’d had to do some very discreet research, which seemed to veer toward the positive. Less compatible than humans and Twi’leks, and they could not possibly reproduce, but that was a non-issue.

What was more difficult to deal with was his own xenophobia. He hadn’t been like that when he was younger, but half a lifetime serving a xenophobic Empire would have that effect on almost anyone. It wasn’t prevalent in his mind, he’d never been very invested in the subject one way or other, but the thoughts came to him from time to time. _He’s not even human, more like an anima –_ the very thought made him flinch in disgust at himself, which he thought was a good sign. It was also getting better. What really helped – or did not help, depending on the day (sometimes he was more accepting of his own feelings than others) – was actually spending time with Zeb. The more he did so, the more he was reassured in the fact that Zeb was clearly the better person, with a superior physiology to boot. It was really quite unfair.

That was the technical side of things, which he had looked into because he doubted that Zeb would (assuming his interest was returned), and one of them must. (The thought that Zeb might have done his own… personal research on the issue struck him later.)

On the other side, the emotional side which Kallus had always been very bad at both listening to and understand (in all honesty he had tried to ignore that he had one for a very long time), it was clear that he was falling in love, and that he had no idea what to do about that fact.

When Zeb had almost held him in the forest, it felt like Kallus could be happy spending the rest of him life in that moment, relaxed, content, in good company. It wasn’t a burning desire or trembling need, he simply felt right, like a piece in a puzzle, like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. He’d thought for the first time, in that moment, that he would like to take things further, to start things with Zeb with the intention of making it last, but he’d also though that he’d be just as happy should they remain as they were.

Later, when they’d returned to the _Ghost_ and drunk more of that beverage Hera kept bringing than they should, he thought perhaps that wasn’t true. Kallus’ boot had found Zeb’s foot under the table and he’d kept it there. They hadn’t looked at each other, and Zeb hadn’t reacted at all, but he’d gotten up at some point, and when he returned he’d put his foot back against Kallus’ boot and relief and joy had flooded his system. He hadn’t been able to hold back a smile, so he’d pretended to laugh at Felix’ very bad joke, and Zeb had knocked their knees together like he knew.

That was the calm before the storm, however. They didn’t get another moment like that before the reality of their situation made itself undeniably present again.

“Captain Kallus!” Draven called from his office and Kallus knew that voice. He leapt from the chair at his desk, frowning. “Briefing room, now!”

“Yes, sir.”

Kallus arrived at the same time as the _Ghost_ crew, and they were not looking happy. Kallus shared their sentiment when he heard what it was about; an Imperial relay station, confirmed by Senator Bail Organa himself. It was no wonder why the _Ghost_ crew had been chosen for this mission, but Kallus didn’t like it. The thought of Saw Gerrera always made him feel unbalanced, and Ezra’s cavalier opinions about how the separatists got their information got to him more than he would have liked. Perhaps he was influenced by the thought of his little brother saying the same thing; Kallus could berate him for it, but saying anything to Ezra was not his place, even though he thought the boy should be ashamed of himself.

Kallus had an idea, however, of how to use this to their advantage. “If we could somehow tap into this relay, we could use it to monitor Imperial fleet movements and adjust our own operations to avoid them.” The suggestion didn’t thill all the _Spectres_ , but Hera assured them that it could be done. Kallus wondered if he should remind them of the tactical advantages to not simply blowing the station, but then they were dismissed, and Ezra reminded everyone of their promise to the people of Lothal.

Kallus grimaced and left with the others when Mon Mothma dismissed them.

“This doesn’t feel right,” Kallus muttered.

“What, you don’t think the _Ghost_ can do it?” Zeb teased. “We’ve done more difficult things before, it’ll be fine.”

“Yes, if Gerrera doesn’t get there first. Be careful, Zeb. That man is not to be trifled with. I wouldn’t put it past him to sacrifice fellow rebels for the cause.”

“Look,” Zeb said, and stopped in the corridor with a hand on Kallus’ shoulder. “We’ve been in contact with Gerrera before, we know how he is. The kid might not have his head on right all the time, but we know how he is, and we’ll take care, alright?” Kallus looked up into Zeb’s imploring eyes, comforted by his touch on his shoulder, and sighed.

“Just come back in one piece,” he begged. “All of you.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” Felix said and caught the ball he’d been throwing against Kallus’ bedroom wall for thirty minutes now.

“Do what?” Kallus asked distractedly. He still had documents to go through in search of any useful information, and his little brother was not helping. The fact that his father sat on the other side of the same desk, alternating between looking at him and drawing him with intense and unshakable focus didn’t help.

Felix waved his hands around a bit. “All of it – all this. Going on missions without knowing if you’re coming back this time, saying goodbye to your friends, not knowing if it’s for the last time. It’s awful.”

“Just think about how many goodbyes were denied altogether by the Empire and it’ll get better,” Kallus assured him, and marked a paragraph that piqued his interest, though he wasn’t exactly sure why.

“I don’t see how that makes it easier,” Felix said, getting worked up by the sound of his voice. “What if Zeb dies? What if Sabine is blinded so she can never paint again, how can you _stand_ the uncertainty?”

“If he dies, I’ll mourn him. If she’s hurt, I’ll make sure that she gets the help she needs. But in either case I will keep on working. Felix –” Kallus put his datapad down and turned to his brother, who had forgotten about the ball in his hand. “There’s one thing you have to understand, being here, and it’s that everyone here has a choice. They can leave at any time, and no one will stop or punish them. It is their choice to do so, and they know the risks they are taking. It’s not easy –”

“It seems easy! To all of you, I don’t understand how you can take it so lightly, when everyone might die!”

“It’s _not_ easy, Felix. But we owe it to each other to keep going, despite the risks to ourselves and our friends. We owe it to each other not to… not to linger on the subject or talk to much about it, so that we can work through it and keep going.”

“That sure sounds healthy,” Felix grumbled.

“Maybe it isn’t, but it’s necessary. We’re fighting a war that is righteous in our eyes, we do what we have to in order to keep on fighting.”

“But they’re just kids,” Felix muttered. “Ezra and Sabine are still teenagers! Ezra’s barely old enough to consent, _how_ can he be allowed to consent to risk his own life every day? It’s not right, and it sounds like terrorist indoctrination.”

“Who’s sounding like an imperial now?” Kallus teased, but his brother clearly didn’t appreciate it. Kallus caught the ball he threw at him though and sighed. “I agree, Felix, but that’s the tragedy of war, isn’t it? The young die fighting, as they always have.” He threw the ball back and Felix let himself fall back on the bed, then continued throwing the ball with an unsatisfied expression on his face.

Kallus returned to his datapad and found his father looking at him with a sad smile.

“He’ll find a way to deal with it,” the man muttered, and stroked Kallus’ cheek. “In the meantime, will you sit still for just one minute? I’m almost done.”

Kallus took his father’s hand and kissed it, and tried not to think of Zeb, and the rest of the _Spectres_ , and the dangers they might be in.

“Your trip to the hangar will have to wait, Felix. I’m sure you’re itching to become a mechanic, but Draven is summoning us.”

“Both of us? What does he want with _me_?”

“Your bet is as good as mine, come on, he’s not a patient man.” Felix jumped out of his seat to catch up, wide-eyed like he always was when he was nervous, and fell in line.

Draven was waiting in his office when they arrived from the mess, but he was not alone. Mon Mothma was there as well, looking serene as always and stopping Kallus in his stride. It had been strange, seeing her on base the first time, and even stranger that she had remembered him from his short time in her guard-detail. She’d seemed to enjoy that little coincidence, though, easing Kallus’ mind which had immediately expected it to complicate things.

He’d gotten used to her presence on base, but she was among the last people he’d expected to see here. His brother seemed to share his sentiment.

“Close the door behind you,” Draven huffed, leaning back in his chair.

“You must be Captain Kallus’ younger brother,” Mon Mothma said with a kind smile. Kallus wasn’t sure but going by the look in her eyes he would almost think she was enjoying this. “I am Senator Mon Mothma. General Draven told me that you have a head for politics, is that correct?”

Felix spluttered in his attempt at gathering his jaw off the floor, and Kallus stowed away the image for future reference.

“I believe that means yes, Ma’am,” he said with a chuckle that the senator shared.

“I mean, I was working on my bachelor…” Felix muttered, grasping at Kallus’ arm for support. “And I was engaged in school, but I don’t have any experience, I don’t even have a proper degree, not since… since we had to leave, I mean.”

“That’s alright. I’m sure we can find a way for you to finish your education, if you have time for it beside your duties, should you accept to being my protégé.”

Felix’ hand tightened around Kallus’ arm, and even Kallus had to admit that he was shook by the offer, almost as much as he was pleased with it. Pride bloomed in his chest as he nodded at his brother, even though the young man looked like he was about to black out.

“I… I would be honoured, Senator, but –”

“Any objections? I wouldn’t make you the offer unless I meant it, Felix.”

“Of course…. Of course, yes, I accept! When do I start?”

The _Ghost_ didn’t return when it was supposed to. Kallus tried not to think about it, tried not to let it distract him from his duties, or from the precious moments with his family. But he caught himself chasing a feeling, looking for the purple misty shadow of Zeb’s presence and the clam that came with it.

He’d been chasing that feeling desperately for a long time, and now that he could actually have it, he didn’t know what to do with it. Didn’t quite know how to get it. He’d never learned how to reach out or accept warmth, though Zeb had tried to teach him, and helped him along. If he were gone now Kallus knew that there would always be something missing, a wasted potential, something he would always regret.

For a moment when they’d all been here, he had been able to have everything, if he had only had the courage to reach out and accept it. He’d deluded himself into thinking that he had more time, but Felix was more right than Kallus would have liked. It was near impossible, this uncertainty, sitting around and waiting, focusing when those he cared about were in danger.

He made it work, though. Because he had to, because he had the strength to do it, and because, despite the odds dwindling every time they went out, he still believed they would all come back alive.

When he finally heard that the _Ghost_ had returned, he took to his feet and ran to the hangar, heedless of everyone in his path.

The _Spectres_ were grim when they left their ship, one by one. Someone else was there waiting for them, gaining Ezra’s attention right away. Zeb came over to Kallus instead, scowling.

“Saw Gerrera,” Zeb explained with a growl.

“But you’re all unharmed?”

“Yeah, but it was a near fucking thing. The slimy bastard took the kids, almost got them killed. Sorry, I have to go to the briefing. See what you can do with the volunteers, eh?”

Kallus turned to the gathering of nervous recruits with a sigh. “Zeb, before you go… could we talk, after the briefing?”

Zeb’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he looked too tired to argue. “Yeah, sure. I’ll come find you.”

Kallus led the recruits to the quartermaster then returned to his own desk, where he worked until dinnertime, when he joined his family in the mess, still looking around for Zeb. The briefing couldn’t be that long, and he was beginning to think that Zeb was avoiding him, until he showed up with Rex in the mess and the two of them joined Kallus and his family.

“So how you doing kid?” Rex asked Felix, blessedly breaking the tension before it had time to fester. Kallus was still not certain of his mother’s thoughts regarding the… alien presence on base in general, and around her dinner table specifically. He did remember how she’d talked about the clones during the wars though. _Little more than meat-droids_. Kallus shook the thought from his head. He had changed, she could too. “Did you talk to the mechanics, like Hera suggested?”

“I was going to, but then Mon Mothma offered to take me on as her protégé!” Felix grinned. He’d gotten all kinds of smug about it once he’d settled a bit in the position, and Kallus would be proud, if he wasn’t so sick of it.

“Hey, that’s great kid!” Zeb grinned and reached behind Kallus’ back to clasp Felix’ shoulder. “I knew you had a good head on your shoulders.”

Kallus tried not to squirm under the warm touch, and further when his mother caught his eyes and raised a brow almost suggestively. He scowled at her, which seemed mostly to amuse her, as she shrugged. _Why not?_ It was Kallus’ turn to raise his eyebrows, uncertain if he’d understood her correctly. She just shrugged again, then his father broke in.

“What are you two talking about?” he complained. “I never understood how the two of you communicate. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say you could read each other’s mind! You have always been like peas in a pod!”

Zeb made sure to mock him for that later, after the two of them had gone outside because Kallus wasn’t sure he could do this sitting across from Zeb.

“You really do look the same, though,” Zeb continued. “Same eyes and stature and everything. Tell me, who got that haircut first, you or her?”

“Oh shut up, Zeb! It’s in fashion on Coruscant, at last it was the last time I was there. Careful, you might injure my poor sensibilities.”

It was getting dark outside again, but Kallus led them around the side of the temple instead of back into the forest, which he’d considered.

Zeb’s shoulders sagged when they were out of view of the people on base, hidden away with the illusion of privacy on the crowded base. Zeb leaned heavily against the temple wall, sighing.

“Are you alright?” Kallus asked, reaching out as if to steadying him, ending up simply holding his arm for a moment. Zeb grimaced.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It was just a bad mission, you know?”

“If there’s anything I can do –” Zeb shook his head and rubbed his face tiredly.

“You think we’ll ever be out of this war, Kal? You think it’ll end?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Kriff, Kal, I’m getting tired of fighting. And, and there’s this feeling that we’re only just beginning, although we’ve been fighting for so long now, and I don’t. I don’t know what I’m trying to say,” he growled.

“You’re allowed to be tired, Zeb. You’re allowed to want the fighting to stop. It’s why we’re fighting in the first place.” Kallus took a step closer and held his breath. Zeb looked up, eyes almost lost. Hopeful and apprehensive at the same time. Something swelled in Kallus’ chest. “Zeb, I –”

“Kriff, Kal,” Zeb muttered again. “Don’t say it, just – It’s alright.”

“What – why?”

“We’re in a kriffing war, Kal, what do you expect me to do? You could die tomorrow, and I don’t know what I’d do, if –”

“That’s exactly why, Zeb,” he pled. He took Zeb’s hand, held it tight even as Zeb tried to pull away. He held Zeb’s hand in both of his and pressed it over his own chest, relishing in the warmth that spread from the touch, the rightness of it all, despite everything. Zeb’s fingers curled against his shirt and he looked away. “I – I _care_ for you, Zeb. I need you to know that. Every time you’re away I’m left here thinking about you and everything I haven’t thank you for, everything I didn’t say. _Please_ , Zeb.”

“Kriff,” Zeb swore, voice shaking as he dragged his eyes up to meet Kallus’. “It’s not gonna end well, you know that, right?”

“I thought _I_ was supposed to be the pessimistic one.” Zeb’s hand clutched his shirt with enough force to pull him forward a bit, leaning awkwardly on Zeb’s hand.

Zeb swore again, and shook his head. “Fine, fine. ‘s not like I can refuse you anything, even if I want to, and I don’t, really.”

Kallus smiled a bit, though now that he was finally allowed to say them, he couldn’t find the right words. Instead he leaned into Zeb’s hand on his chest and tilted his face up to kiss him.

It felt like wine at the dinner table, or a meteorite pressed to his chest. He opened his eyes, and he swore purple ribbons were circling around them, singing for them. They didn’t lead anywhere now, not anywhere but here. He truly was lucky, being here, finally home and welcomed with open arms. He’d left his old life behind, and he would not look back.

“You’re too kriffing pretty for your own good, you know that, right?” Zeb muttered against his lips and hauled Kallus closer until he was standing between Zeb’s legs, cradled in his arms.

“Counting on it,” Kallus replied, and kissed him again, drowning in relief at Zeb’s presence, at his acceptance.

“And I’m so proud of you, Kal.”

“Don’t say that,” Kallus begged of Zeb’s shoulder. “Makes it sound like I’m a child or –”

“I’m so kriffing proud of you, alright?” Zeb said, rubbing his hands up and down Kallus’ arms insistently. “I told you, not many people could do what you did, but here you are.”

“ _Zeb_ ,” he groaned, but Zeb shut him up with his lips again, and Kallus didn’t have any complaints, nowhere he needed to go, nothing he needed to do except this.

He spared a thought for what started all this, for what sent him home in the first place, and he had no explanation for it, no idea of what it might have been. All he knew was that the ache was gone and the loneliness as well. He wasn’t lost anymore, wasn’t seeking meaning or purpose. He’d found the trail and followed it to the end of the line, and he’d stay there, in Zeb’s arms, as long as he was welcome. He could only pray that it would last, but for now – for now everything was as it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this we conclude our little journey. I hope the ending was satisfactory to you guys, make sure to leave kudos and comments if you liked it, it means so much!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who have followed this little story, I'm very grateful! And perhaps I'll see you again in this fandom, who knows... But until then, take care!


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